


Follow the Sparks, I'll Drive

by nontoxic



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, theyre both disasters and i love them so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nontoxic/pseuds/nontoxic
Summary: "We should probably get to know each other a little bit better, then. Maybe over dinner tonight? There's a great Italian bistro in Elmdale. My treat."Patrick's ears go a little pink and his mouth hangs open for a moment before he responds, and David feels the self-satisfaction itching under his skin. "Sure, yeah, that sounds great.""Perfect. Say, 8 o'clock?" David asks, like it's easy, like he isn't internally panicking about this. He just asked out his maybe-business partner. His maybe-business partner saidyes.--David and Patrick's first date is a bit of a disaster, but it all works out in the end.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 77
Kudos: 259





	Follow the Sparks, I'll Drive

**Author's Note:**

> here's the thing, i just posted chapter 1 of [you and my hometown](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462701/chapters/69745932), but then i saw my word count for the year was 148k and i wanna get to 150k so i dusted off this bad boy. big thanks to [schittposting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schittposting/pseuds/schittposting) for the last-minute beta when i decided i wanted to post this like ten minutes ago.  
>   
> these 'bad at dating' [writing prompts](https://danverses.tumblr.com/post/632563726507229184/au-scenarios-were-bad-at-dating-edition) i saw on tumblr were just begging to be written.  
>   
> \--  
> title from 'i think he knows' by taylor swift

"Oh, I'm gonna get the money," Patrick tells him, with all the confidence of a white man who has never been told 'no' in his life.

"Okay," David responds. If he's a little hot under the collar, that's his own business. Patrick's whole... _thing_ is really working for him. He shouldn't ask him out. Not if they're going to be working together. Right? It's a bad idea. It really is. But... Patrick looks so _good_ with the collar of his shirt hanging open like that, just inviting David to run his tongue along his— Fuck it. "We should probably get to know each other a little bit better, then. Maybe over dinner tonight? There's a great Italian bistro in Elmdale. My treat."

Patrick's ears go a little pink and his mouth hangs open for a moment before he responds, and David feels the self-satisfaction itching under his skin. "Sure, yeah, that sounds great."

"Perfect. Say, 8 o'clock?" David asks, like it's easy, like he isn't internally panicking about this. He just asked out his maybe-business partner. His maybe-business partner said _yes_.

"8 o'clock works. Do you want me to pick you up?"

 _Fuck_ , that's right. He doesn't have a car. "That would be helpful, actually, thank you."

Patrick smiles at him. "I'll see you then."

He's almost out the door when David remembers to acknowledge his comment. "See you then."

Patrick flashes him one more grin as he pulls open the door. The sunlight shines on his face in a way that makes him glow, the golden rays seeming to light his pale skin from within.

For some reason, David's knees feel weak and he has to lean more heavily on the counter.

\---

"David!" Alexis calls, as if he's not in the same room. " _Patrick_ is here!"

"Yes, Alexis, I can see that," he tells her, striding over to the door.

"Hi," Patrick greets, his eyes flicking over David's outfit briefly, unfortunately not lingering anywhere of note.

"Hi," he whispers back. "You look very nice," he tells him, noting the blue blazer and dark grey slacks.

Patrick smiles and glances down at himself. "Ah, well, wanted to make a good impression."

David grins at him. "Well, full marks on that."

"Shall we?" Patrick asks, gesturing toward his car.

David nods and follows him out the door, ignoring Alexis' sing-songy, "Have _so_ much fun, David!" as he goes.

The drive is nice. The roads are quiet and Patrick rolls his window down halfway, letting in the fresh summer breeze, but not far enough that it would disturb David's perfectly coiffed hair. It's comfortable, sitting in Patrick's car as the sun inches closer to the horizon, casting a warm glow over the fields and the roads and Patrick's unfairly attractive profile.

"So," Patrick starts. "What made you decide to open the store?"

"Okay, if you ever stepped foot in that general store, you would understand just how desperately the town needs this."

Patrick laughs, and David's stomach flips. God, he's so fucked already.

They spend the remainder of the drive chatting about the store, and key demographics, and marketing strategies. David loves feeling like he's being taken seriously about this, especially by someone like Patrick, who decidedly Knows His Shit.

When Patrick pulls into the parking lot, David half expects him to trot over and open his door. He seems like the type. But instead, he stays a step ahead of David and opens the restaurant door for him, which is a nice gesture, just on the right side of both chivalry and respect.

They're seated in a cozy table tucked into a dark corner with a candle flickering between them, and David finds himself distracted by the way Patrick's lashes catch the light and the shadows playing across his distracting lips, how they settle into his dimple when he smiles.

Patrick is... soft. Not in a bad way. He looks gentle and kind and still so, so hot. He doesn't have sharp, intense edges. He doesn't have the kind of face that can cut you open with one look. He has smoldering, bright, sharp, deep eyes, and a strong nose, and foothills for cheekbones instead of steep peaks. His jaw is loose and easy, unclenched with his easy confidence. His auburn stubble glows golden in the candlelight and David thinks he might just be the most beautiful person he's ever met.

He's so distracted by Patrick's face that he stumbles over the menu when their waiter arrives, not giving his choice his usual five to seven minutes of deliberation. But at least everything here is good, so he doubts he'll be disappointed with the ravioli. Or the bottle of Malbec he suggested they split.

Patrick seemed surprised when he ordered it, but he went along easily.

And by the time their waiter returns with the bottle and pours them each a glass, David has decided to propose a toast. "To our potential new partnership," he says, lifting his glass.

Patrick smiles, taps his glass against his, and takes a long sip. David's mouth goes dry watching his Adam's apple bob in the candlelight, his light stubble catching the glow and making David want to just lean across and _lick_ , but he blames it on the wine.

"So," Patrick says, pulling something out of the messenger bag he was carrying with him.

It's a leather padfolio. David finds it cute that he thinks they'll be getting any work done tonight.

"Oh, I don't think we need to talk about the store tonight," he says, resting one hand softly over Patrick's atop the folder. "I just want to get to know you."

Patrick clears his throat, his ears going red. "I just, um, I thought you might want to take a look at my resumé, go through my experience?" he asks, pulling his hand away and opening the folder, handing David a sheet of paper reading 'Patrick A. Brewer, MBA' proudly at the top.

David swallows. "Oh! Oh. Um."

"Yeah, I've never had a job interview for a position that doesn't really exist yet, but I figured..." David zones out while Patrick finishes his thought, his ears starting to ring.

_A job interview._

_A job interview._

_A job interview._

It repeats, over and over and over again in his mind, and he is unable to stop it.

"...and with my experience in—"

"I'm sorry, Patrick, I, um, can you just excuse me for a moment?"

Patrick looks at him with those deep, understanding eyes of his and nods.

David races to the bathroom and throws the lock closed behind him. He allows himself exactly two minutes to wallow and panic, counting down from 120.

So it's not a date. Okay. He can work with that. _115..._

That's fine. Patrick is good company. David would be thrilled to have him at the store, even if he doesn't want him, which really isn't that unusual. _93..._

He just... wishes it was. A date. He wishes it was a date. He wants it to be. _87..._

He shakes his head and stares down his reflection, willing it to look less shocked and sad, pulling his professional, indifferent mask back on. _55..._

He can _do_ this. He can go back out there and get to know Patrick, who apparently _isn't_ interested in him, and he can maybe get a great business partnership out of it. Perhaps even a new friend. _31..._

But, _oh_ , Patrick's smile makes the butterflies in his stomach go wild, and his eyes would look so beautiful, heavy-lidded and darkened with desire, looking up at him through his lashes, and David wants to kiss those soft lips and pull on his thick, too-short hair, and— _times up._

He splashes some cold water on his face and exits the bathroom, breezing back to their table.

"So, Patrick, walk me through your resumé."

He's already made up his mind about him, but he listens anyway, wanting to hear how Patrick talks about himself. And it's all with a wholly expected easy confidence.

Their entrees arrive and David asks the tough question. "So what brings you to Schitt's Creek?"

"Oh, um," Patrick pushes his food around on his plate for a moment. David studies his face, not loving the way it goes closed-off and pinched. "I, uh, just wanted a change of scenery."

David grimaces. "Bad breakup?"

Patrick's eyes snap to his. "Something like that."

"And you chose Schitt's Creek of all places?"

Patrick's face slowly releases the tension, a soft smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno, David. Doesn't seem all that bad from where I'm sitting."

David feels a grin threatening to split his face, so he tucks it down as best he can. "Oh."

Patrick holds his gaze for one more charged moment, before dropping it back to his plate.

"So," David starts, with more ease now that Patrick's whiskey eyes are no longer on him. "Tell me about your MBA program."

\---

The drive back to town is quiet, David still feeling a little embarrassed by how badly he misread the situation.

"Is everything okay?" Patrick asks as they pass Town Hall. Only a few turns left until David is free of this discomfort.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you spent the entire drive to Elmdale ranting about how the old General Store merchandised their product and now you haven't spoken to me since we paid the check."

"Oh, 'we' paid the check?" he tries to joke. Patrick just looks at him. David sighs. "Okay, fine. In the interest of us potentially working together, I should probably come clean about this."

Patrick just waits patiently, avoiding eye contact as he turns on to Main Street, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, which is _not_ helping David at all.

"I, um... I maybe thought this was a date?" David says, before clarifying, "I was asking you on a date. Tonight."

Patrick coughs, and makes a sharp left into the deserted Schitt's Creek Lutheran parking lot, throws the car in park, and turns to David. "You what?" He asks evenly.

"I'm sorry, okay, I misread the situation and I—"

"No, _god_ , David, I... you mean I brought my fucking _resumé_ on our first date?"

' _First_ date' stops David's spiral dead in its tracks. "I mean, you were _very_ professional."

Patrick grins at him. "How professional would it be to ask you to kiss me right now?"

"Oh, not at all, but luckily for you, I've always been a rebel in the workplace," he teases, before leaning over and gently pressing his lips to Patrick's.

And oh, yes, his lips _are_ soft. He tastes like tiramisu and Malbec, and his kisses are like a warm summer night, syrupy and languid, hazy and gentle, all slow caresses and soft pressure, and David already wants to kiss him again.

When he pulls back, Patrick smiles gently at him. "For the record, asking me out to dinner was a much better move than me asking to invest in your business. Can't believe I didn't think of it myself."

"Oh, um, I mean, if you don't want to—"

"No, I want to. I meant it when I told you the store could really be something. I want to be a part of it. But I also really want _you._ "

David pushes his smile hard into the corner of his face. "Well, luckily for you, we're running a two-for-one special, buy a store, get a business owner free."

Patrick grins at him. "I hope this is a one-time-only offer. Don't want to lose you to future investors."

"You know, I have a feeling this is gonna be it for investment offers, but... either way, I think this is a one-of-a-kind deal."

Patrick cups David's neck in his hand and whispers, "Must be my lucky day," before leaning in and kissing him again.

And they do eventually stop necking in the church parking lot and Patrick drives him home with a promise of talking tomorrow.

And they do talk tomorrow, and they flirt over grant applications, and when David's ex comes to town, he panics to Patrick, who threatens Sebastien with legal action as Moira didn't sign a photo release. And when Sebastien hands over the memory card and David stomps on it right there on the sidewalk, he feels like he won.

And when Alexis gets lice, they take it as an opportunity to rent a room at the Sherwood for some much-sought-after privacy for the first time, and David has never felt safer with someone.

And when when they're a day away from opening and Patrick is spending more time flirting than facing, and Stevie is getting under his skin, he snaps and tells them, "If you and my boyfriend want to waste time, please do so somewhere that doesn't distract me," and, well, the store might just have to open with a few imperfect shelves because Stevie leaves and Patrick takes it upon himself to fully distract David at that point. (It doesn't open with imperfect shelves, though, because of course Patrick comes in early to finish, leaving a note for David on his pillow, and David feels his heart swell).

And the store is a success, of course.

And they go to dinner for David's birthday, their hands clasped together in David's lap, and Stevie slides into the booth across from them, and it's so nice to celebrate with his two favorite people. And when he unwraps the framed receipt Patrick gives him, he feels something shake loose in his chest.

And when he realizes he hasn't been back to the motel in four days, he insists they spend the next night apart. Until he finds out there's a dead body at the motel and shows up on Ray's doorstep with his overnight bag, greeted by his boyfriend's smug face.

And when Ray decides David's regular presence in his house means they're all _very_ close and enters without knocking when Patrick is riding him into oblivion, they decide they need a night of uninterrupted privacy. Luckily, Stevie is there to offer her keys. And when Jake shows up and kisses him square on the mouth, his boyfriend shows great restraint and David is proud.

And when David performs an embarrassing medley with his mother, Patrick is there with two bouquets of long-stem roses (one for him and one for Moira), and David knows he loves him.

And when Patrick sings a gentle rendition of Tina Turner's "The Best" at him, David knows that Patrick loves him back.

And when Rachel shows up and crashes their barbecue, David holds Patrick's hand tight in his and gives him the strength to get through his unexpected outing. And they talk about it after. And David almost tells him, but he doesn't want their first "I love you"s to be reactionary.

So a week later, he lip syncs his heart out to Patrick in their store for no reason other than that he loves him. And when Patrick gathers him in his lap after and looks David dead in the eye and whispers "I love you" like he means it, David just grins and says it back.

And somewhere along the line, David notices the one year anniversary of the store opening creeping up and he does what any sane person would do — he frames the resumé Patrick slid across the table to him a year ago and gives it to him in tasteful wrapping.

And six months later, when Patrick finally moves into his own place, the resume is hung with care next to the poster from that first Open Mic Night. (And later, when the renovations on their cottage are finally finished, they'll hang the resumé and the Open Mic Night poster and the framed receipt from their first sale. And Patrick will give David a housewarming gift — a small, square frame containing a deli tag reading "B13" that he's kept in his wallet for the last two and a half years, and that little deli tag will sit proudly amongst their collection of frames.)

And when Patrick invites his parents to Schitt's Creek to celebrate his birthday, he introduces David to them with a watery, proud grin that David doesn't think he'll ever forget.

And when David carries him up a mountain and Patrick hands him his padfolio, David flips it open to find a sheet of paper, and laughs wetly as he reads a resumé of their accomplishments and beloved memories as a couple. And when he lowers the paper to see Patrick kneeling with four golden rings and a speech about the love of his life, he doesn't think he'll ever be as sure about anything as he is about the "yes" he chokes out.

And when they say "I Do" under rain thundering onto the roof of Town Hall, David doesn't think he'll ever be happier.

And he isn't. Until the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that...

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](https://danverses.tumblr.com)!


End file.
